


Ignorant Devotion

by lightsway



Category: Norse Mythology, Thor - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, Mild Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-12
Updated: 2012-12-12
Packaged: 2017-11-20 22:55:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 689
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/590567
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lightsway/pseuds/lightsway
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sigyn always allowed herself to believe that the God of Mischief loved her, but that blissful ignorance couldn't last forever. A bit of a mashup between Norse Mythology and MCU/MMU.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ignorant Devotion

**Author's Note:**

  * For [BombshellKell](https://archiveofourown.org/users/BombshellKell/gifts).



> As the summary says, it's got elements of Norse mythology, as well as the Marvel comics/Thor movie, sort of intertwined together. As a Loki/Sif fan, I sort of wondered how Loki's wife would handle inevitably finding out about his infidelities (as it does come to light in mythology). So that's sort of what this is supposed to be.
> 
> I hope it is enjoyed :)

He does not love her. She knows this, and yet she cannot bring herself to question him aloud, lest her hurt and curiosity be what drives him to leave her completely.

And yet, she has already lost him. This she knows, too, though she even questions whether or not she had him in the first place. If asked for a reason as to why he married her, she would once have smiled and answered that they love each other. She is not so foolish now. He loves her when she is useful to him, and she suspects not even then. She is a tool for him to use and discard as he sees fit.

He told her once that he loves her. Vividly she can recall to mind the images of his broken and bruised body lying tied to a rock, and oh how she hated to leave him when she had to empty the venom from the bowl, his shrieking cries of agony as the acid dripped onto his skin making her heart clench painfully tight, and she had hurried back to him as swiftly as possible. In what she had thought were brief moments of lucidity, he had hoarsely told her he loved her.

Once he got away, she was once again cast aside in favor of his usual mischief, and doubt once again weighed heavily on her heart.

She chose to live in sweet ignorance for a time, allowing herself to believe he loved her, that he had willingly given her his heart just as she had willingly given him hers. She wouldn't question him when he left, and when he came back, she didn't ask questions about where he had gone and what he had done. She simply welcomed him back with open arms and and open heart. And, when he wanted, an open bed.

Pleasure was always a drawn out affair with him, his mischievous side coming out and extending their lovemaking long into the night, pleasing her torturously slow, bringing her to the edge of bliss only to pull back slowly, driving her mad until he finally allowed her the sweet, sweet ecstasy of tipping over that edge his every limb denied her. He always ensured that she was utterly exhausted come morning. And when she awoke, he would be gone. For days, for weeks, for months. And she would always welcome him back with no questions and a gracious heart.

And yet she found throughout the years that his heart, the one she fooled herself into believing she owned, was a fickle thing, never contained in the hands of just one. And never truly held by anyone except perhaps himself.

Until she found out about the other woman, Thor's woman, and how Loki had been sharing a bed with her as well. She had suspected as much for a time, but in her ignorance, she chose not to think about it, and instead focused on being a better lover for Loki. In the palace of Odin, she could not help but glare at the woman, so beautiful with her long golden hair. She hated to think of Loki's hands and lips on her body, that glint in his eye as he inflicted only the utmost pleasure on her. She wondered if Sif cried his name with as much longing as she did, if he fit with the warrior goddess as perfectly as he fit with his wife.

It seemed he could sense her anger, but he only delighted in it, pulling at her insecurities as one might pull taut a string, slowly pulling each end tighter and tighter until it broke. But she would not break. She would not give him the satisfaction. The only thing that broke was her love for him, but she could fake that easily enough. She was, after all, married to the best liar in Asgard.

She put on a demure smile and greeted him as usual, as her husband. And in court, she addressed Sif as the warrior goddess, Thor's wife; and secretly, as the one whose head wore those long, betraying locks of blonde hair.


End file.
